


Another Day at the Office

by AngeRabbit



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Glove porn, M/M, PWP, Phone Sex, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 08:14:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeRabbit/pseuds/AngeRabbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam.  Gene.  Gloves.  Unf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Day at the Office

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ 10/08/2007
> 
> **Disclaimer:** Alas, they're not mine. I wish they were, but they belong to Kudos and the BBC. But if they were mine I would return them all smudged and ruffled...

It was roughly 10 o'clock when the phone on Sam's desk rang for the first time. The sound literally made him jump out of his seat, and seemed to echo off the walls of the office; wryly he thought this was probably due to the lack of bodies currently working at their desks. The Guv had swept out of his den at just after nine, barking at Chris, Ray and all but two others in his team to follow him out, as they had a new lead on the case they had been trying to crack for nearly a month now.

Sam had automatically risen from his seat to follow Gene, but found a gloved hand clapped on his shoulder, forcing him back to a sitting position.

“You're staying here, Gladys”, the Guv said loudly to him, “I've got some paperwork that needs doing and I know how much you like to follow procedures.”

Ray smirked and looked at Chris, seeming pleased of his chance to ride shotgun with the Guv for a change. Sam rolled his eyes and groaned as he found himself in his chair again. Gene leant in a little closer, taking advantage of the movement in the rest of the room to whisper in his ear.

“Oh I've got other plans for you today, Sammy-boy.”

Sam couldn't help the electric thrill that ran all the way down his spine as he watched Gene's camel-coated frame exit the room. It was just as well he hadn't seen the glint in Gene's eyes as he walked away from his DI, rubbing his gloved hands in anticipation of the day's work ahead.

Once the team had reached their intended location, Gene quickly sorted them out into pairs and allocated them the roads he wanted them to work on. Every house in every street was to be knocked on, and all available members of the public questioned. When Chris asked what Gene would be doing during their rounds, the Guv fixed him with a steely stare and retorted that he was co-ordinating the whole operation, and as such would be overseeing matters from the comfort of his beloved Cortina. He had parked up on the corner when they arrived, nearly ramming the car into a public phonebox as he slammed on the brakes.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The desk phone was still ringing and Sam snapped back from his thoughts to lift the receiver.

“It's me, Sam. Are you alone?”

Sam couldn't help but swallow hard at the sound of the voice on the end of the line.

“No. Although technically - “

He was interrupted by the sound of a low, almost growling reply of “Good.” Gene's voice was like honey and Sam felt a familiar tingle in his trousers. He wasn't sure where this was going, but he had heard that tone of voice before.

“I just wanted to tell you how bloody gorgeous you looked last night, riding my cock.”

Sam's eyes widened and he struggled to keep his composure. Fearing that his voice might come out in a squeak, he replied in what he hoped was an efficient manner, “Ok then Sir, let me just make some notes about your query.” He flicked a glance in the direction of the other two men still in the office, but they seemed engrossed in the sports section of the newspaper. He was glad they weren't returning his glance, as he thought the slight sheen of perspiration on his face and the way he was squirming in his chair might alert them to something going on other than a routine enquiry. There was a familiar tightening in his trousers as Gene continued to speak to him in a slow, soft drawl.

“I want you to know how much I love the look in your eyes when you're just about to come, and how much I enjoy hearing you shouting my name as you shoot your load all over me.”

Sam had trouble refraining from dropping the receiver. His heart seemed to have stepped up to double time and there was no way he was going to be able to get out of his seat for a while, not without knocking a few items off his desk. How the **hell** did Gene keep having this effect on him and yet still sound himself like he was more than capable of keeping his composure? He had to admire the man for being able to call Sam into his office, slam him against the wall and kiss him like his life depended on it; then two minutes later be stood chatting to Ray about a case as if he hadn't just had his tongue down the throat of his DI.

Of course, if he could have seen into the phonebox in which Gene was currently standing, he would have noticed that although his voice sounded calm, there was a great deal of rubbing of an ever-hardening cock through the flimsy material of his suit trousers. Gene had been thinking about Sam ever since the events of last night; and if he had to be out of the office and couldn't be near Sam physically, talking to him was the next best thing. _Especially_ talking dirty.

He could hear Sam's breath becoming more shallow and had detected a slight waver in his voice when he had spoken, trying to act as if he were taking notes about some kind of query. A grin slid across his face as he spoke once more.

“I'm going to call again, Sam. Only this time I'll call **my** phone, in **my** office. I want you to answer it. Only you. Understand, Sammy-boy?”

“Wha – um – I mean, what happens if I don't answer it? I let someone else pick it up?” Sam could hear the shaking in his own voice. He was trying to sound blasé, but knew he had dropped his voice to a whisper for fear of being overheard. Gene knew damn well that he was trying to sound assertive but only ended up giving the impression of someone melting rapidly all over the office floor.

“You **will** answer my phone. It's not a request, Tyler. Oh and – don't you dare touch that gorgeous cock of yours before I phone back, no matter how hard it is right now. And I _know_ you are hard, because _I'm_ like a fucking rock here.”

With that, Sam heard the familiar 'click' in his ear as the line went dead. He smacked his free hand on the desktop as he replaced the receiver. Damn Hunt! He knew exactly which buttons to press to get him standing to attention in what seemed like seconds. No-one had ever had that effect on him before. It wasn't something he normally complained about where the Guv was concerned – but how the hell was he supposed to concentrate on paperwork now? More importantly, how long would it be before Gene called back? The prospect of not being able to touch his already aching erection until – well, who knew when - was already making him twitch.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was another hour and a half before he heard the muted ring of a telephone. During that time, Sam had managed to read the same form sixteen times before having to admit he wasn't taking a word of it in; the other two men in the office had also risen from their desks about half an hour previously and asked if he wanted to go for a break in the canteen. As much as his dry throat indicated he could do with a drink, Sam had to decline as there was no way on Earth he was prepared to stand up and point the way forward for them - without even lifting a finger.

It felt as if he had been constantly hard ever since Gene had called; the crafty bastard had said just enough to make him replay the events of the previous evening time and again in his mind. He had tried surreptitiously brushing the palm of his hand over the front of his jeans, but that only made it worse. What he really wanted to do was dash to the toilets, find himself a stall, and put an end to his constant state of arousal. Yet the greater part of him resisted, as his curiosity got the better of him. When he finally heard the phone ring, he practically broke into a run to get to the office. 'As much as you can run when slightly hunched over', he thought to himself. He slowed down as he neared the door, not wanting to appear too keen to the other men in the office. Once through the doors, however, he managed to clear the floor in two strides, and snatched the phone up.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Before Sam even had a chance to say anything, Gene's voice was caressing his ear like velvet.

“Lock the door of my office. I don't want us to be interrupted, Sammy-boy.”

Sam almost threw the phone across the desk in his haste to obey. He grabbed the receiver again as he sat in Gene's chair.

“I want you to open the second drawer in my desk and tell me what you see there.”

Sam wrenched the drawer open and looked in.

“There's – um – a bottle of lube” -

Gene broke into his sentence at this point and said, “Ah yes, that's for later. We'll deal with the other item first. What else is in there, Sam? Tell me what you see.”

Sam found it hard to speak with his heart now pulsing firmly in what appeared to be his throat, but he gave it a damn good try.

“Your driving gloves. But hang on -” he thought back to being pushed into his chair that very morning, “you had those on when you left.”

“Very good, Sam. Those are a _new_ pair of gloves in the drawer, an exact replica of the pair I am wearing now. I want you to put them on.”

All Sam could manage to say at this juncture was “Guh”.

“I'm not stupid, Sammy-boy.” Gene was almost purring down the line. “I've seen the way you look at my hands when I'm wearing these gloves. The way you watch me in the car, moving the wheel, touching the gearstick. And do you think I haven't worked out why you always wear the same bloody leather jacket? You, Sam Tyler -”

-Sam found himself nearly on the floor at this point, writhing not only to the sound of Gene's voice, but everything being said to him. He couldn't help but let out a small moan as Gene emphasised each word that followed -

“You, Sam Tyler, are **my** _dirty_ , _filthy_ , **_kinky_** , Detective Inspector. Now put those gloves on.”

Sam held the phone to his shoulder as he took the gloves from the drawer and slipped them on. He gasped as he felt the soft leather engulf his fingers, and slide into place on his hands. He had always wondered what Gene's gloves would be like, not just to wear but feel across his naked body, but had never been brave enough to suggest to his lover that he keep them on in the heat of the moment. Now he was wearing a pair and they felt – well, they felt _incredible_ against his skin.

“Oho, Sam, I can hear how much you like those. Now close your eyes, listen to me and do what I tell you. You need to imagine that I am there with you, those gloved hands are mine, and I am doing all this to you. Do you think you can do that, or are you finding it hard to concentrate?”

Sam could hear the amusement in his voice and wished he was coherent enough to tell him to piss off and just get on with it before his cock exploded. Instead he chose to gasp out a “Yes” and waited for further instruction.

The line was silent for a moment, and a slight edge of panic crept in as Sam wondered if Gene had run out of money and let the line go. He hadn't heard the pips, though; so what the hell was he playing at?

“Yes **what** , Sam? Say it for me.”

“Yes, _Guv_.” Now there was two lots of heavy breathing on the line.

“That's better. Now, start unzipping your lovely tight trousers. Slowly, one inch at a time. Just remember, it's my fingers reaching for your zip. I'm slowly pulling it down, right to the bottom. Is it open now?”

“Uh-huh.” Sam was holding the phone against his left ear whilst his gloved right hand followed Gene's coaching. He was finding it hard to concentrate on everything at the same time, for some odd reason.

“Very slowly, and very gently, I want you to reach inside and get your gorgeous cock out. I'm touching your hard cock, I'm wrapping my gloved fingers around you. Can you feel me, Sam?”

Sam shuddered as he enjoyed the sensation of the leather on his cock, making him jump in the chair at the first touch. Sitting with his eyes closed, listening to Gene's voice, he was finding it hard to control himself. At first in his delirium he had nodded in response to Gene's question; then remembering he couldn't see him, Sam had managed to pant out a simple “Yes” in reply.

“I'm going to start moving my hand up and down the length of you. Slowly, as I love to feel your cock in my hand and I want to take my time. I'm enjoying the feeling of the leather between our skins as much as you are. Now I'm beginning to move my hand more quickly.”

Sam was moving in parallel to his lover's instructions and knew it wouldn't be long until he felt the familiar heat rise. Gene kept talking, telling him to grip harder, rub faster; all the time talking as if he were the one touching him. As he stood in the phonebox, he had to resist the temptation to reach inside his own trousers and stroke his aching cock to the point of release. But all he wanted to do right now was please Sam; his time would come soon enough.

“Keep going Sammy, I want you to come for me. I want you to come all over my leather gloves, I want to see your spunk shooting all over my fingers as I stroke your gorgeous cock.”

At these words, Sam couldn't hold on any longer, and with a strangled moan he felt his release, as he shot himself all over the gloves he was wearing. Stars and spots formed on his closed eyelids, and he could feel the sweat dripping from the end of his nose. Gene's cock was twitching, straining against fabric as he listened to the man he loved whisper his name as he came. He waited for Sam's breathing to return to a more normal level and then spoke again, sounding gentle and yet urgent as his lust overtook his senses.

“I want you to take those gloves off and put them back in the drawer. When I get back, which will be **very** soon, I want to see you in my office. I'll be looking at those gloves carefully to make sure you followed my instructions. Don't forget I know how you smell; I know how you taste. You're **_mine_** , Sammy-boy.”

There was so much warmth in the last statement that Sam could only smile as he basked in his afterglow and think how much he loved this man. Sam was his, and nothing made him happier than that thought. As he slipped off the gloves and put them back in the drawer his eye caught sight of the lube he had first mentioned.

“Can I just ask, Guv, what about this lube?”

“Ah yes, Sammy-boy. I will be back at the office within the next twenty minutes, and I intend to use that lube on you when I throw you across my desk and fuck you into the middle of next week. I'm so hard right now I could use my cock as a pogo stick.”

With that, the line clicked and Sam was able to sit back and relax. He couldn't stop the grin from appearing on his face as he thought of what he would be doing in twenty minutes time. Maybe he could persuade Gene to wear the gloves for real...would asking him to leave just his camel-hair coat on be too much?

It was a shame Gene wasn't there to see the spark in Sam's eyes as he pondered that thought.


End file.
